


A narrative waste of patches and light

by memory_bees



Series: all of my fanfics in one place [21]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Canon Typical Violence, Don't Ask, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Romance, It's late, M/M, Magic, Merlin's Neckerchief (Merlin), Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin (Merlin), They're In Love Your Honor, Violence, idk what's going on with this fic, no beta we die like men, this fic makes no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memory_bees/pseuds/memory_bees
Summary: We grew up in the suburbs then we cut all our tiesNow just take a look at this through Gwyllian eyesYou're wrong my friend, the road, it bends a bit to the right
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: all of my fanfics in one place [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1183928
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	A narrative waste of patches and light

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is crappy lol i wrote most of it when i should've been asleep

It was a mystery, how they had gotten into this situation. Chained up in some left to rot cell by another group of who knows how many bandits. They had probably snuck up on the two of them and hit them both over the head before they could say which way was up and which way was down. Merlin sometimes wondered why Arthur insisted on wearing his family’s crest whenever they were out for a hunting trip, and not with the knights. It might’ve saved them being captured in _annoyingly_ similar ways.

“Sire, if I might ask-”

“You may not.”

He ignored Arthur and continued, “What, pray tell, is your plan of escape?”

“ _Mer_ lin, would you just listen to me for once?” Arthur hissed in return, shooting a glare that would make anyone but the noirette falter.

“No, I cann-” He cut himself off when he heard heavy footsteps come from outside the cell.

Merlin, despite all efforts to look terrified, at least a little spooked, simply looked bored. Their captors were the typical, big and muscular, and dumb as a board, men. As if they took Percival and sucked his brain out of his ear. He blinked slowly as the guard, who Merlin noted wreaked horrifically of rotten eggs and death. He was starting to wonder what pile of garbage he bathes in when the wall of muscle spoke.

“You two have a choice,” He said, and Merlin feared that if he spoke any louder his teeth would fall out of his mouth- “Either you let us into the castle, and let us take anything we want, or one of you gets hurt.”

Merlin, poor, insolent Merlin, couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the plan. Apparently, the man’s brain wasn’t completely sucked out of his skull, and he whipped to face the sorcerer, who shrunk under the scrutiny even if he didn’t want to. He heard Arthur’s chains rattle slightly, and he spared a glance to see the prince look like if he were free he’d pounce on the man.

“Well, haven’t you got a lot of nerve?” And, before he knew it, their captor had crossed the space between them and Merlin had gotten a slap straight across the face.

The hit stung and he scrunched his nose, his magic tingling at his fingertips. He could do so much right then, but Arthur was there tugging at his chains hard enough Merlin worried about his wrists, so he had to rein it in, even if the smoke and fire taste of it lingered in his mouth. He inhaled and kept steady eye contact with their captor, even if he knew he had a bright red mark on his cheek. He wondered if it’d bruise, but only vaguely. That’d be a fun one to tell the knights about, he got slapped for rolling his eyes and it _wasn’t_ because of Arthur.

Okay, maybe it’d just piss the knights off. Best to save it for himself and Arthur then.

Apparently though, not letting his gaze waver was the wrong thing to do, because he then received a sharp kick to his side, which caused him to gasp in pain and double over, and he heard Arthur yelp.

This time, Merlin stayed down so to avoid another hit.

“Leave him _alone_.” Arthur near shouted, still struggling against his chains.

Merlin watched as the man’s gaze shifted to the prince, an awful smile moving his features, “Oh come now, Prince Arthur, I’m doing you a favor. Your manservant is about as insolent as an unbroken horse.”

“He’s _my_ problem, and I don’t need the likes of you to help me punish my servant,” Arthur grunted, and Merlin once again wished he could use magic.

Merlin watched from under his dark hair as the man roughly grabbed the prince by his hair, near lifting him just with that touch alone. But something was wrong. Merlin noticed that their captor, so far he had only counted this one, but he was reaching behind himself, and suddenly Merlin had an itching feeling the man was letting Merlin off easy with a few bruises.

“Wait!” He exclaimed before he could stop himself. He could feel his magic again, pulsing around the room, reaching its tendrils out to Arthur.

Both Arthur and the man turned to look at him, the wall of a man’s eyes burning. Merlin swallowed when the man let Arthur go, a shallow grunt escaping him as his knees hit the floor, but Merlin was quickly forming a plan and he hoped it’d work. He ducked his head down, eyes flashing gold as the man approached him, and he saw from his peripheral the keys to their cuffs fall, and Arthur just managed to catch them before they fell and clanged against the floor. He also saw Arthur triumphantly hold them up behind Merlin, and a bitter part of the sorcerer ached for the blond to know that it wasn’t lady luck who helped him.

But Merlin didn’t have an awful lot of time to be sore about it, because there was the sound of a dagger unsheathing and it was suddenly pressed against his neck. He saw Arthur’s eyes widen and try to hurry up and unlock his cuffs. Merlin swallowed, knowing he had to buy the prince time, and once again looked up at their captor.

“You are more of a pain than I originally thought you were.” The man hissed, and his breath stunk just like the rest of him did.

Merlin grimaced, “And you smell more than I originally thought you would.”

Just as the man was about to probably try to kill Merlin, Arthur’s cuffs came loose and he ran out the door. The man shouted but didn’t pursue. So there was at least one other man with the one who had been speaking to them. Merlin smiled cheekily, which, once again, was a bad idea as the knife moved from his neck to his cheek and cut into the soft skin there. Merlin didn’t even feel the sting, he was so surprised.

“You are such a pain in the ass, it’s a wonder the prince keeps you around.” The man spat and then kicked him in the stomach again. Merlin groaned but was kept from doubling over by the man holding him up by his hair, similar to how he did with Arthur.

Merlin wanted to say something, but instead, the edge of the man’s dagger was pressed to his throat again, this time with just enough pressure to cut into the skin there as well. Merlin swallowed and his heart rate shot up. Being Arthur’s servant and also being the one who had to protect the clotpole with his life probably wasn’t the healthiest choice he had ever made.

Helpfully though, there was the sound of men yelling down the hall, and the one currently holding Merlin cursed, then roughly shoved him to the ground and gave him a few more swift, but devastatingly hard, kicks to his torso then ran out to go try and help. Merlin gasped for breath, his chest aching, and he worried that the man had managed to crack one of his ribs. He laid there, breathing in painfully for what felt like forever but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes.

Arthur burst into the cell and quickly grabbed the keys from where he was chained up and brought them over to Merlin, who was trying to carefully push himself up and off the floor. He grunted as Arthur roughly grabbed his wrists and freed them, then just as roughly pulled him to his feet. He wheezed and put a thin hand on Arthur’s shoulder to keep his balance, chest aching. He felt more than saw Arthur’s concern when a gentle, gentle hand braced itself on Merlin’s lower back.

“Merlin,” The blond started, and Merlin looked up at the damning amount of _concern_ in his voice, “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer, despite himself, laughed at the question and nodded, “Oh, quite alright, just think the oaf cracked a rib or two. Why, are you worried about me?”

“What?” Indignation, a little bit of fear behind Arthur’s eyes was all Merlin needed to hear and see to know the next words to leave his mouth would be a lie, “Of course I’m not worried. I just have to make sure you’re in tip-top shape for your chores tomorrow. Come now, we should try to get back to Camelot before sunset.”

And just as quickly as it came, Arthur’s gentleness left. Merlin found himself frowning, but he just sighed and went to follow his prince.

Once he was outside and he got a good look at the sky, the sun starting to dip into late afternoon gold, he knew they’d be staying the night in the forest. He walked to his horse, then to Arthur, then paused when he realized the prince wasn’t on Llamrei, but instead shuffling through his saddlebags, muttering to himself. When he apparently found what he was looking for his eyes lit up (Merlin’s magic swirled inside his stomach, making him feel a little nervous), and looked to his manservant.

“Well? Come here, dollophead.”

Merlin scowled but sulked towards Arthur anyway, “That’s _my_ word.”

Arthur didn’t say anything, just grabbed Merlin’s chin and swiftly turned his head to the cut on his cheek. The sudden movement irritated the thin cut (a scratch really), on his neck. He hissed and suddenly Arthur loosened his hold on the noirette’s jaw and carefully tipped his head up to see the cut. Arthur’s eyes darkened and his other hand tightened on what Merlin now recognized as medical supplies.

“Er, Arthur, not to sound unappreciative, but do you want me to patch myself-”

“ _No_.” The tone was harsh and Merlin blinked in surprise, and let his head fall as Arthur swiftly turned away from him and walked to the leftover campfire the bandits had left.

“ _Mer_ lin, come on you idiot.”

Obediently he followed. He had to hold back a snort at himself because of how quickly he listened to the prince. Here he was, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, _Emrys_ , and he was listening to a prat. Said man was his other half, his destiny, yes, but nonetheless a prat. He sat on the log next to Arthur, facing the blond.

Dutifully, the prince got to work. He poured a cleansing tincture onto a clean cloth and gently wiped the cutoff, then took a thinner piece of cloth and poured a small amount of Gaius’ healing draught onto it and placed it over the cut. The stickiness of one of the plants, Merlin thought it was goosegrass, would work as an adhesive to keep the cloth over the wound so it would heal with no risk of infection. They were still working on the mixture, and the sorcerer just hoped this time it didn’t cause a rash the gods would pity this time.

The silence was a little uncomfortable, and just as Arthur reached for Merlin’s neckerchief, he grabbed his gloved wrist to make the prince pause. The blond sighed and cocked an unamused eyebrow at his servant.

“Arthur, please, the cut’s not even that deep. I’ll be okay, we should be on our way to Camelot now if we hope to get there before dark.” He said, tone softer than he should have let it be.

The prince pressed his lips in a tight line, and pulled his hand away from Merlin’s grip, “It’s my fault you got hurt. He could’ve killed you, Merlin-”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time it’s almost happened.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

A little snort came from his awful servant, earning a slight quirk of the lips before he continued.

“Your life has been risked far too much since you’ve come to Camelot, please, just let me do this.”

Merlin sighed and nodded, and untied his neckerchief himself. Within moments Arthur had repeated the process he had done on Merlin’s cheek. The younger man expected that to be the end of it, but no. The prince pulled him into a hug, and despite how he _knew_ it was supposed to go, five seconds of awkward then they pulled away, Merlin couldn’t help but melt into it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed touch like this, the gentleness of it.

“Merlin, why are you shaking?” The prince asked, and Merlin tensed to pull away, but his ribs protested and he fell against Arthur again.

“The, uh, the angle is awkward.” Merlin lied.

His deceit was caught however when Arthur tightened his hold. The noirette sighed and slumped into the prince, accepting his fate.

“When was the last time you’ve had a hug, Merlin?”  
  
“When was the last time _you_ had one?”  
  
“This morning, Morgana gave me one before we left.”

Well, alright then. Merlin finally gave in and started to think. And think. And think some more. And suddenly, Merlin realized shockingly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had had a hug. He certainly knew it wasn’t within the past few months. Last year, maybe?

“I don’t remember.” He said breathlessly.

Arthur gripped him tighter, which was surprising. Merlin had first-hand experience of how emotionally constipated the prince was, but he wasn’t even trying to seem manly and strong. This was the most open he’d seen the man in, well, in about as long since the last time he’d gotten a hug.

They stayed like that for a long time, hugging. Eventually, Merlin’s ribs did protest, so he had to pull away and look at Arthur. He smiled and let out a disbelieving laugh, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, today’s been quite eventful.”

Arthur then burst out laughing, deep and happy and it sent the magic swirling happily in Merlin’s gut again, it felt like butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. And infectious like a disease, and he started laughing too. He only got a few deep inhales in though before his ribs constricted, and he settled for pleased giggling.

Arthur noticed, and his brow furrowed, “Merlin, are your ribs that bad?”

Merlin shrugged, but Arthur quickly stood. The sun was starting to fade from gold to orange and blue, the sorcerer noticed as he stood as well. Had they really been sitting there than long? He huffed out a breath and finally got onto Éimín’s saddle. Arthur quickly shoved the medical supplies into his saddlebag and glanced towards Merlin.

“If we get there in time, I’ll take you to Gaius to make sure he looks over your injuries,” Arthur stated.

Merlin laughed and walked Éimín over to Arthur, “What, so you don’t have to worry about your armor not being clean?”

The sorcerer’s heart ached as the future king’s eyes softened and skipped down the ground. The gentleness faded as soon as it blossomed, however, and Arthur simply laughed at Merlin’s question.

“Yes, something like that.”

And they were off to Camelot.

Surprisingly, they reached the city just as the sky slipped from deep orange and pink to blue and purple. Arthur hopped off Llamrei and rushed to help Merlin off of his own horse. He bit back a laugh at the help and delicately placed his hand in Arthur’s as he hopped off. He did notice, however, the prince’s hand lingered just a moment too long before he let go and started off towards the palace. Merlin smiled and waved at the stable boy and rushed to catch up with his prince, even if the movement hurt his ribs.

Arthur must’ve heard his manservant hurrying towards him and slowed down considerably, nearly stopping until they were side by side. Arthur smiled to himself as they walked. However, halfway to Gaius’ chambers, Merlin gasped and reached a hand towards his throat. He had forgotten his neckerchief at the ruins they had been kept at, and it was one of his favorites too!

“Merlin? Are you okay?” Arthur asked, reaching for Merlin’s neck to make sure the cut hadn’t worsened at all.

Merlin frowned deeply, mindlessly stroking a single finger along his bare neck, “I forgot my neckerchief.” He revealed, clearly troubled.

Arthur paused, huffed impatiently, and snapped, “Gods, Merlin, I thought you had hurt yourself. I’ll get you a new one. Come now, we’d better hurry.”

Merlin blinked owlishly at the back of the prince’s head, then a grin similar to the cat that got the canary snuck onto his face and he quickly approached the prince again, “Awe, sire, were you worried about me?”

He simply received a pointed glare as they had reached Gaius’ chambers. The old man looked up, ready to greet his protégé, but paused when he noticed the cloths over the boy’s neck and cheek. He suddenly looked a lot more tired than he had just a few seconds ago. Seemingly used to the routine, he gestured to the table and Merlin all too happily sauntered over and jumped on top of it.

“Slight cuts on my face and neck, and my ribs are either fractured or bruised,” Merlin said before Gaius could even open his mouth to ask.

The old man laughed and shook his head, “Well, seeing as your cuts have already been taken care of, there’s not much I can do,” He did, however, turn to Arthur and point a stern finger at him, “You though. Don’t have him do anything too strenuous, it won’t be good for his ribs.”

Arthur huffed out a surprised laugh and nodded, “Okay, Gaius, I hear you.”

Gaius nodded and walked back over to a shelf of potion components and started opening up the jars to smell, and sometimes taste if they had gone bad or not. Merlin looked to the prince, who gestured his head to the hall and the sorcerer dutifully followed.

Once they had closed the door Arthur grabbed Merlin’s arm and dragged him to a secluded cutout in the wall. Once they were hidden from peering eyes Arthur tugged Merlin into a hug, burying his head in his shoulder. Merlin froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around Arthur’s metal-clad shoulders.

“I was worried. I was worried that your cut had gotten worse because of something stupid I’d done, and I promise that I will get you a new neckerchief,” He shifted, and Merlin moved with it immediately, “whatever color you want.”

Merlin smiled and let out a mirthful laugh, “I promise I’m fine, sire. And I think I’d just like another blue one.”

Arthur grinned and let go of his servant, lightly punching his shoulder, “Consider it done. Now come along, you’ve still got to help me out of my armor and get me a bath and dinner.” He said as he walked away.

Merlin simply rolled his eyes and followed after his prince, “Coming, sire.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](sunny-gnelf.tumblr.com) for more vaguely gay shenanigans or maybe shoot me a message on discord instead (Mom Friend#2371)


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